Save us from our Solemn Hour
by Artgool
Summary: When a disease spreads across the world it leave the country's representatives with nothing but pain. They know it is only a matter of time before they contract the disease themselves. What will they do? Will they lose control like the other patients? Or, will they be able to find a cure before it's too late? This is only the beginning of their troubles.. Rated T for now..
1. Chapter 1

**Wow. I don't know where this idea even came from. I was just thinking of role-play plot ideas and this idea popped into my head. I know they're just representations of their countries, or nations, but I can't help but view them at individual people. I'm trying to have that view on them like everyone else, so the characters might be a bit OOC. I will try my best to keep them in character!~**

**This story skips from one character to the next. So, try and keep up!  
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. If I did I'd be rich. But, I'm not. ;A; *Sobs violently in corner***

* * *

**-China-**

The eldest country representative was hunched over on his mattress with his head in his hands. He felt awful. He wasn't sick like the rest. Well, not yet. He knew it was only a matter of time. He skipped any World Conferences that had been scheduled. If you left your home it was almost as if you had a death wish. This disease wasn't like the rest his people have dealt with. Death is not the only result, but insanity is. The horrid stench of flames still remained within his sense of smell. It was just there… mocking him… He could hear the chaos from inside. He yearned to help, but there were no authorities anymore and he was only one person. What could he possibly do?

Huffing a heavy sigh of pure frustration he pinched the bridge of his nose and raised his head watching the long strands of hair cover his face. He didn't bother moving them. He was too focused on the possibility he might actually have to leave his safe hold. He didn't want to, but he needed to find another person who wasn't infected. Someone whom he could discuss plans with. They couldn't just sit back and do nothing. Grasping the thin fabric covering his chest he felt the pain sear through him. It hurt…. He felt his very being wither little by little. Sooner or later he might even cease to exist.

He wanted to cry. That's all he wanted to do. But, crying wouldn't help his people now. He simply had to accept his burden and move on. His burden? His only burden is what he represents. It was too much for one body. But, he had to deal with it. Redirecting his attention to the expertly weaved basket upon the low table top he debated whether he should part from his home. He needed to find someone, and fast.

Lately, he hasn't been his peppy or cheerful self. He was depressed and often caught sobbing. This was definitely not the China from before this disaster. He was different now. Dark circles dipped beneath his dull chestnut stained eyes.

Springing up from where he was seated he grasped a single sling that was connected to the basket that often carried his small panda companion. Freezing in his place he narrowed his eyes down to the helpless animal. He couldn't bring him. He could get infected easily out there. He was safer here…

Kneeling down he watched the creature approach him and give a small whine. "I'm sorry-aru." He apologized giving the black and white cub a pat on the head. "But, it is too dangerous." He told him forcing a small, content smile across his face. His words only resulted in the animal releasing a high pitched squeak. Placing his index finger over his lips in a polite gesture of shushing his friend he shook his head gently. "I'm sorry." he repeated. "Stay here. Okay-aru?" He ordered fighting to keep his voice… decent, and not stuttering. He was- honestly- horrified of parting from his home. But, ya gotta do what you gotta do.

Lifting his body up he straightened his posture and unraveling the slender muscles placed over the his anatomy. Carrying the make-shift backpack he hurriedly stuffed it with treats and supplies he might require on his journey. He doesn't expect to return tonight, or even tomorrow….

Turning away from the main living areas poorly separated within his home he placed a single hand over the door leading to the outside hell. Drawing in a breath he brought back the door a bit with a small creak. Slipping through the first smell that hit him was fowl, and he unfortunately recognized it as blood… That ghostly scarlet liquid. His face crinkled up at the abrupt stench. He felt nauseous, and he wanted to throw up at it. But, he continued on down the path leading to and away from his home. Everything seemed okay, so far..

His pace quickened at the sounds of screeching in the distance. It snapped through the air and sent a shiver down his spine. He forced himself on then debating who he would find first. Maybe Japan- No, Japan maybe not even want to see him.. But, did the past really matter now? What if he was sick too, and he needed help? This was what forced him into a running speed. He felt the tainted air smash against his skin as he parted from his owned land.

It was not too long until the country huffed and his speed lessened. He was getting too old for this. He may not look like it, but he was estimated to be 4000 or 5000 years old! His stamina isn't the best anymore. But, he pushed forward planning out his routes. He remembered the shortest way to locate Japan. This was before that horrible day though… He hoped it'd still work.

The sun was setting, and he still wasn't even half way there! That was when he realized he might have to camp out somewhere. Somewhere away from civilization though. Somewhere safe…. That was when the thought came to him. Maybe he could rest up in a tree if he could find a sturdy branch to hold him for that long. For now, he traveled until it was just before dark. He needed to get as far as he could for now. But, feeling his energy leave him so quickly made him decide against that. "Aiya… I'm too old for this." He breathed pausing to hold his back and straighten it out. As he shifted his position to crack his back his eyes traveled up locating the perfect branch that he could sleep on during the night. A smile crept across his face as he attempted to climb the tree, but ended up slipping back down. "Damn it." He cursed the veins in his head pulsing as he repeated the process until his fingers finally clasped around a lower branch. He used his muscles to pull himself up and weave through the branches his old senses and moves returning to him. It has been quite a while since he has climbed trees. He paused standing upon a branch with the memories flashing before him. "Wow.. Time goes by fast-aru.." He mumbled. That last time he climbed a tree was when he was considered a brotherly figure. Shaking away the long lost memories he continued his goal and accomplished it within a matter of second. Fixing himself he leaned his back against the trunk of the tree and stretched out his sore legs in front of him.

Something felt… off. This wasn't related to the sickness, but.. it was something else.. He felt watched. Pushing his torso forward to peek around the heavy bark oft he tree he felt a large arm wrap around his neck and pull back. His jaw snapped open to release a surprised yelp, but a hand covered his mouth. He felt the breath of someone approach his ear, and that was when the veins in his head continued the annoyed pulsing. "You called, da?~" That familiar voice echoed lightly throughout the sickened air.

The only response he got was angry, and muffled screaming. Removing his hand the Chinese man threw his head around to come face to face with the familiar representative. "What the hell are you doing here-aru?" He snarled still rather furious with the surprise attack. He saw Russia's silhouette perched upon a branch just below the one China found.

"Same as you." He answered simply with a loose shrug. "I was looking for someone." He finished that usual ghostly smile across his face.

Eyeing the man suspiciously China huffed a small sigh and relaxed his sore muscles. "You are hurt by disease too-aru?" He asked narrowing his eyes to his hands in his lap.

"Who isn't?" Russia admitted leaning back and relaxing on his own branch. That was when silence invaded the area. To be honest, they didn't know what to says anymore. But, what China couldn't get was how the Russian man could still even smile. It hurt him to smile. "So, where are you going?" Russia abruptly asked breaking the silence and dragging China away from his repeating thoughts.

"I was looking for Japan." He admitted figuring Russia would find out anyway. Everyone was aware of the history he and Japan shared, and he was often questioned about it. But, the questioning stopped after a few hundred years.

"I see." Were the only words that left the heavier man's lips. "Shall we look together?" He offered politely.

China was rather taken aback by the offer. Why would he even want to go with him? Wasn't there anyone else he'd rather be with now? "How did you find me, anyway-aru?" He felt his thoughts slip from his tongue.

There was no change in expression from the Russian. He only responded to the question obediently. "Like I said, I was looking for someone who was not sick."

Makes sense, though. Out of everyone on this side of the world he knew China the best, probably. "What about your sisters?" China asked. He couldn't help it anymore. He couldn't keep his thoughts and curiosity inside. He had no strength for that, or room. The only remaining strength he had was not used for containing thoughts, but for staying alive in these times.

After a moment's silence he responded fighting to keep his voice steady and casual. "They are sick."

That struck grief to China. He understood what it's like to have those close to you sick. He was not only considering his people, but his little siblings who were now full grown. Hong Kong is sick, as well as South Korea. Anyone else he tried to contact would not answer, and all means of transportation are put down. So, crossing the ocean was tough unless you had your own means of transportation. "Oh, I am sorry- aru.." He apologized to him.

"It is fine. They are strong." Russia spoke with such confidence. How was he this strong? Was his country affected as much as China, or was Russia just that strong? "So, do you have any food?" He finally asked.

"What? You mean you came out on a journey without food-aru?!" China practically yelled his brows furrowing together in pure frustration. What kind of imbecile does that? This is almost as stupid as the time he jumped out of a plane without his parachute!

"Da~" He answered almost as if it was a simple question.

Giving in to the man China removed the basket from his back and shuffled through it for food he thought Russia would enjoy. "I don't have much, but here." He told him tossing a neatly sliced piece of bread to him.

Nodding his thanks to the Chinese man he spoke after a few bites and he stomach felt less… hollow. "I can take watch while you sleep." he offered.

"Are you sure-aru?" China asked resulting in a simple bop of Russia's head in a second nod. Once he was sure he could not fight back against the decision he made himself comfortable and shut his eyes. Although, he remained in a light state of slumber…. This was to avoid any lurking nightmares...

* * *

**Yah, I know… No action yet. It should be coming up! The beginning probably wasn't too amusing, but trust me.. this will get better!~  
****Please, leave some nice reviews! Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I feel like the Nordic 5 doesn't get much attention. So, in this chapter I'll be writing about them! Like I said before, I'm shifting from one character to the next. Either that, or I have those certain characters I shift to. For example, for the Nordic 5 chapters I might only write from the perspective of once character and then for another group I'll use only one character to write from when I shift to there. It makes it a bit easier. x-x**

**Anyway, I hope you guys read and review! I like reviews! ;u;**

**Oh and warning: Denor is shown a bit in this chapter! NO LEMONS NO LIMES- SHHHHH OKAY?~**

**Oh, and I almost forgot in the last chapter to say that the title comes from a Hetalia AMV I found. "Our Solemn Hour" was the title and the band was "Within Temptation"**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. ;A;**

* * *

**-Denmark-**

It has been exactly 5 hours since Norway began showing symptoms of the disease. The dane wasn't sure how to respond, really. His chest hurt and his eyes were bloodshot from the tears threatening to fall. Just seeing his friend in pain hurt… Not only was his people suffering, but he was. As if he didn't have enough grief pushing on his shoulders...

_"Nore?" The husky voice yelled from the hallway as he watched the slender silhouette fall and hunch over with his hand pressing on his stomach. "Nore! What's wrong?" He asked quickly his tongue stumbling with his words. Boots pounded over the wooden floor and his hat flew back landing softly where his previous whereabouts were. Approaching with such speed Denmark kneeled down sliding over to his friend's side. That was when that ghostly stench hit him… blood._

_"Hang in there Nore!" He urged his friend frantically hooking his arm under the norwegians' and helping him to his feet. His knees threatened to buckle under the weight, but Denmark held him up. "You're alright." he assured him, but was cut off by a small scoff.__  
_

_"I know I'm not, you ass." The norwegian snapped. His voice was rough and it was almost… a whimper. Nothing Denmark would expect from his old friend. His once petrifying purple eyes were now swarmed with fear. "And… Bror.." He began a single hand running over his eye lids. "I… I can't see.." He admitted his voice now calm._

_How the hell was he so calm in this situation? Denmark wanted to yell and scream for help. But, that wouldn't do any good. Not to mention Norway was the only one who had the knowledge of a doctor in this house… Wait, what about Iceland? Moving at a decent pace to where Norway could keep up with Denmark he searched desperately around the house. "Iceland? Icel!?" He called throughout the house until he finally got a lazy response._

_"Yes, brother-" The younger man's voice was cut off at the very sight of his older brother's blood dripping over the floor. "What…. what happened? W-What wrong?" he asked frantically his small puffin perching itself upon his shoulder._

_"I.. I don't know, Ice. I need you to call someone.. Now-" He was cut short by the voice of Iceland once more._

_"But, we live s-s-so far from any d-doctors.." He reminded him. They did not live so close to civilization. This was the only risk they took when taking this mansion, and they didn't expect a problem like this to ever occur. _

_"It's better than no doctor at all.." He told Ice laying a hand on his open shoulder. "Now, go call… Please.." He begged his own fear clouding his pure blue eyes._

_After a simple nod from the boy Denmark continued the path to the couch where he would rest Norway down with his head elevated onto a pillow and he kept his body straight. But, once on the comfortable seating he curled up a painful groan pushing past his lips. His hand pushed into his stomach and he felt the taste of blood return and cling to the taste buds over his tongue. _

_"Don't worry, Nore. You'll be ok-"_

_"I know I will. I'm not the one worrying am I, Anko?" He asked that sly grin sneaking across his face. _

_Denmark couldn't believe his eyes. He smiled. He showed more emotion then he had ever seen in his years with him. Denmark couldn't help but return him with that stupid grin of his. "No, you're too calm about this." He pointed out._

This, though, was 5 hours ago. It was already worse. Norway couldn't move, nor could he see. He was in and out of consciousness, yet… he was as calm as ever. Denmark was well aware it was only a matter of time before he went insane… like all of the other patients.. Burying his head into his hands he felt the tears flood at the corners of his eyes.

This disease was absolutely horrible. Not like it was bad before, but now it was worse. He flinched at the abrupt movement of the norwegian. Raising his head to look down upon his friend he stuttered. "N-Nore? You a-a-alright?" He inquired quietly his voice rough and almost unrecognizable. Something wasn't right, though. Norway wasn't responding, but he was groaning and gritting his teeth in agony. His eyelids remained shut tightly and his hand squeezed his chest area. "Nore?" Denmark repeated snapping himself up to his feet only to be met with a powerful push from his ill friend.

His eyes were dull, but yet something sparked within them. It wasn't agony, nor was it pain…. It was absolute rage and frustration dancing together in a perfect waltz. "N-Nore… Are you okay?" Denmark inquired once more. He couldn't tell if something was wrong. Was he angry Denmark was worrying again? Or, was he really being effected?

His only response was a small growl rumbling past his friend's teeth. "Damn you!" He yelled springing up from where he previously rested almost as if he was dying. Now, he lashed out at the dane.

"Nore! Norway! Calm down!" Denmark yelled over the boy's frequent grunts and loud screeches. This was unlike Norway. He had never heard him like this. He was always so independent and quiet. Hearing him in this much pain made a statement. Pulling away from his grief he felt a powerful fist press into his ribcage. "Ow! FFFFF-" He groaned unable to even allow the foul language to leave his tongue. He put up his own fists, but paused. He couldn't fight back. This was Norway- his own brother. Feeling a second blow to the side of his face he stumbled to the side tasting the blood leaking from the wounds at his cheeks. "Nore! C'mon! Stop it!" He snarled throwing his head up to face the ill norwegian. His skin was as pale and ghostly as ever and he could be placed as ill, but based on his actions he could also be placed as crazy.

"No!" Norway screeched in a response throwing multiple attacks out at his friend. His battle was interrupted by a familiar small whimper from the doorway.

"Brother?" It stammered. It was Iceland coming in to check on his beloved brother. But, he didn't expect the response he received. You could tell by the abrupt change in expression upon his face. Last time he saw Norway he was on the couch barely even able to speak. Now here he was beating the living crap out of Denmark.

Norway wrapped a single arm around Denmark's throat pulling him down to his height. "Don't interrupt." He warned his younger brother. His grip around the dane's neck only tightened applying pressure to the center of the vulnerable area.

Denmark's face was bloodied from the attacks he endured from Norway, and now all of his strength was slipping away because of it. He struggled for a single breath to circulate into his lungs properly. Forcing his hands around Norway's arm he worked to pry his arm away, but it remained there securely holding him in place as a hostage.

"W-W-What are you doing?" Iceland inquired bringing both hands up to the air level with his shoulder blades. His puffin companion was perched upon the roof of his head.

"What does it look like?" Norway snapped back as if it was a simple question. "I'm saving us from this pain in the ass." He finished gesturing down to Denmark whom continued to attempt and escape the younger man's iron grip.

"Save us? What do you mean-?"

"He is the source of our troubles." Norway cut in finishing his false opinion. Everything he said was simply being fueled by his growing insanity. But, you never know do you…. Lies are rooted from truth….

* * *

**Well, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter! The next will probably be out soon! I first need to continue my 'Flawed Vows' fan fiction then I'll return to this. So many ideas, so much to write, yet so little time! ^.^"**


	3. Chapter 3

**Yoooooo~ This chapter here is based off of a roleplay I did on another site I go on. It's a Hetalia rp, clearly. I just got the idea from it.**

**I tweaked it a bit though to fit the story.**

**Also, I intend to update this daily, but I haven't been feeling too good lately so I might be inactive. I think it's just anxiety and depression working together again. But, I am not too sure. Writing's an amazing vent though, and I love making stories for you guys!~ I hope you enjoy them!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

**-China-**

The eldest country awoke with a start at the alarming feeling of the tree shaking vigorously. He figured it was Russia due to his inability to his lack of stealth, but it wasn't... Russia was sound asleep on the branch below.. So much for taking watch shifts. Peering down to the ground he watched debris litter about.

"What the-?" He was cut off by the screeching and blaring alarms erupting from a city not too far from the forest. "I thought I picked a place far from the city-aru." He mumbled to himself with concern crossing his face. Should he go help? What if there were survivors? What if he contracted the disease? ...No... He couldn't just leave. He couldn't forgive himself for it.. ever.

Throwing his head over to the Russian he decided to leave him. He couldn't risk having him contract it, either. He had enough to worry about. He had to leave him something though to tell him he'd be back. Well, _if _he would be back. It'd be wrong to leave him without any notice of where he went off to. Searching desperately for something he reached into the basket and took a small loaf of bread from the small stash. Climbing down from the tree he began plucking away at the food and dropping it at his heels as he quickened his pace and broke into a run towards the source of the explosion. Something inside him stung and churned within his chest. They were inside his boundaries after all, so this was simply eating away inside of him once more.

All of this screaming.. It was too much like the screaming from when he was home.. He threw up his hands and blocked the sound from shattering his ear drums. He wanted to cry, but he had to go forward. Continuing his track he dropped the bread pieces one by one in hopes they wouldn't get buried by debris.

Once the smoke made contact with his flesh it stung and he felt himself blink multiple times just to be able to make out his own country that was engulfed in the harmful ashes. Biting his tongue he resisted the violent coughs that remain contained in his lungs. His feet tapped over the earthly soil with such grace and his speed was incredible. His stamina, though, as running low. Pressing forward he huffed a small curse under his breath. There was no way he could slow down! Not now!

Finally after what seemed like hours he reached the burning building with his hands empty as he dropped the final piece of bread at his heel. He didn't stop though. He wouldn't stop for anything. Searching desperately as he moved around the building he flinched at the bloodcurdling scream of what seemed like a child. His dull hazelnut eyes widened in horror at the abrupt voice breaking past the roaring flames eating away at the remaining scraps of the building. How was he ever going to reach the child? Throwing his head from side to side he soon located a large slab of iron leaning against a sturdy section of the split building.

He moved over the iron and watched as chunks of the building littered across the area. What could have possibly happened to have caused this? The disease does drive patients insane, but would it really drive them _this _far? Flinging his attention back up to the newly acquired entrance through the ceiling he crouched low springing up grasping on to the easily considered unstable rows of oak wood and iron. He wasted no time hauling his torso up allowing him to roll onto the floor above with ease. The base of his fingers were now crested with ash and rust. They burned and stung from the abrupt weight that pulled down on his fingers.

Ignoring the pain lingering at his hands he examined the crumbling floor frantically for the child. Cupping his hands around his lips he raised his voice. "Hello?" He called listening for a reply, but to no avail. He continued on though following through with his acknowledgement of the child. He moved on his toes careful not to break through the fragile flooring. Pausing he placed a hand over his mouth and retreated into another coughing fit. He almost felt as if his knees would buckle beneath him. His lungs burned as well as his eyes. Black dots lined the edge of his vision and his head began to spin. "Oh no.." he mumbled under his harsh breath a short wheeze following his words of worry. Time was running out for him…

"Is.. Is anyone here-aru?!" he hollered with the rest of his oxygen stores within his lungs. Finally, he received a small response. It wasn't english though. It was… screaming and grumbling.. Searching past the smoke bellowing out through the openings of the broken down building he managed to locate a tiny silhouette hunched over in the corner of the room. Based not he fragile build he guessed that the child was a female. He approached with such happiness that he stumbled with each step. "Little g-" His plea for the girl was cut short by furious limbs lashing out at him.

This girl was ill…. China narrowed his eyes upon the sickened girl who flinched at the eyes directed towards her… The eyes… They were too alive...

"Y-Y-You're not my mommy!" She screeched at the very moment she failed to recognize the representative.

"W-Wait-aru!" China called out watching the girl approach him with such violence. That's when he began to wonder if he should even save her… He'd end up ill, probably, and this disease was too much for this young girl's body. She'd die even if he did save her… As he continued avoiding the child's attacks he gritted his teeth and ran towards her to scoop her up to carry her out, but he felt himself get blow back by an unknown silhouette. "Hey! W-wait!" China called twisting his arm to slam the person in the head. But, he was too weak to even complete an attack. He froze at the very surface of the stranger's skull and gave out to a second coughing fit. He felt his muscles grow weaker and weaker and his vision blurred quickly. His time was out and the final thing he saw was the little girl screeching and flailing madly inside the crumbling building left to die….

….

The familiar crackling of fire flicked and snapped into the air at the elderly country's left and the dangerous silence of the forest remained at his right. He refused to open his eyes. He was scared of what he was going to see next. He didn't even get to see his rescuer. He awoke from his unconscious state quite a while ago and he has been laying on the damp soil for what seemed like forever listening to the crackling fire. He didn't like fire… not anymore… Not after what happened… The image of the helpless child remained implanted in his head and replayed under his eyelids…. over and over like a broken melody of screeching and sobbing….

He didn't want to watch that scene anymore… It kept sending rages of shivering down his spine. Slowly he opened his eyes allowing them to adjust to the dimly lit fire. Opening his eyes all seemed so… calm… That was until he made out the face staring down on him… That smile was so familiar..-

"AHH!" China screamed pushing the Russian representative away from his face. Why did he have to be so damn close?

"I'm sorry. Did I startle you?" He asked being pushed away by a hand against his cheek.

China simply pinched the bridge of his nose and eventually realized the weren't the only two here. Twisting his head he identified the second human being as his younger brother, Japan.. Finally, after so long a smile tugged at China's lips and his once dull eyes brightened up some more. "Japan!" He exclaimed in relief upon seeing him.

"Hai. It's nice to see you are awake." Japan told him. Although, there was no smile on his face. He seemed as serious as ever. It struck something in China, but he ignored it. The important face was that Japan was alright and healthy. "I ran into Mr. Russia while searching for you." He told China explaining his appearance here. "We found your bread trail and we followed it." He finished watching China closely.

"So, you were the one who saved me-aru?" China inquired to the Japanese man and was returned with a simple nod. "Well then, you have my thanks-aru." He told him stifling the smallest chuckle past his parched lips.

"That was a reckless idea." Russia blurted out a small look of grief spreading across his facial features.

China narrowed his eyes to his hands and responded with traces of bitterness in his voice. "Yes. But, what if there were survivors?" He asked the Russian as if it was simple. That was when it hit him. "So, you stopped me from saving that child-aru?" He growled to Japan pure anguish replacing the temporary happiness on his face.

"Yes." Japan answered plainly not even raising his empty eyes from the fire cooking their dinner.

The Chinese man clenched his fists and gritted his teeth together. "I could've saved her-"

"And then she would have died." Japan broke in finishing for him. All was silent after that hollow statement. Huffing a quiet sigh he raised his brown eyes to the Chinese representative. "I'm sorry, but if you were to save her she would have died outside anyway and you would have been ill, as well.." He explained his brows raising into a more grief-stricken expression.

China opened his mouth to argue, but closed it. He was right…. His whole body was trembling and the tears threatened to fall once more. He could have saved her, but she would have died…. He would have never won either way…. He pushed his head into his hands and felt himself strain to resist any tears from falling. He felt a warm glove against the back of his shoulder blade as he tucked his knees close to his chest.

"We are all suffering." Japan told China. He would read the rage directed towards him like a book.

That was when the pure frustration, anguish and grief turned into sobbing...

* * *

**Whoa. I hoped to get this up earlier. Sorry guys! I haven't been feeling so well lately, but I hope to be getting these up more again. ;;**

**Thanks for reading and feel free to leave a nice review! Next chapter should be up soon!~**


	4. Chapter 4

**Soooo sorry this took longer than usual! I didn't mean for that! I just.. ran out of ideas, and when I got this one I just HAD to write about it!~**

**I was also a bit stuck on who to write from. But, I eventually stuck with England because… Well, he's England and who doesn't love him an his eyebrows?3**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. ;;**

* * *

**-England-**

_An emerald eyed english man paced in front of his window with his fingers scratching at the tip of his chin. He hasn't heard from America in so long, or anyone for that matter. It only raised his stress levels. His palms were sweaty and his whole world was spinning along with the pain that raged inside him. He huffed and struggled to breath at his usual rhythm. Nothing was right. Nothing at all. Everything was tainted and dissolving before him. Finally, after hours of pacing to and fro across his carpet he leaned against the windowsill with his head placed at his sweaty palms. He stared at his own shoes unable to even think straight. He didn't know what to think. It hurt too much..._

_"Maybe I should try to call America one more time.." he choked searching desperately for the phone around the room. He had called so many times already. He must be annoying the American representative to the point he expect him at his door with a bat. Picking up the device he dialed the number and awaited the ringing repeating in his ear over and over again like his own melody of death. Once again, he got the answering machine. "Damn.." he huffed furrowing his heavy brows together as he hung up the line. Something wasn't right about this situation. Yeah, so maybe America went out exploring. But, what if he's lost, or he needs help? A frustrated sigh pushed past his parched lips as he raised his head back up to stare out the foggy window that was now dripping wet with the water falling fiercely from the clouds passing over his country. "Well, I can't just sit here." he thought aloud his fingers curling into fists. Without hesitation he lashed forward his fist only making contact with the solid walling before him. He wanted to break down and cry, but he struggled to keep himself sophisticated and controlled. He felt sick to his stomach and everyday he felt like a knife was piercing into his side breaking past the flesh. It wasn't uncommon he'd awake screaming and howling of pure terror and agony. This was too much for one body to handle._

_He flinched at the sound of knocking at his front door. A shiver ran down his spine as he turned away from the wall his knuckles throbbing only accompanied by the familiar sting sent throughout the nervous system. Approaching the doorway the knocking only grew more aggressive and soon it began to concern the brit. What if it was one of those hunters people were talking about? He didn't really understand what hunters were or what they wanted, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He got up on his toes to peek out from the small hole poked through the center allowing him to see who was on the other side. Before he could even recognize the face a hooked blade ripped past the wooden barrier. Stumbling back he fell staring up at the weapon that had just invaded his home. Whoever it was they sure weren't friendly._

_Throwing himself around he slipped over the hardwood flooring and searched frantically for a room, any room that'd seem unusual. "The attic." he repeated to himself under his harsh breath. Now, he could ear the heavy voices from behind him barking out for him._

_"Find the damn brit!"_

_"We need him alive!"_

_Those were only some of the voices. There were definitely more than a few out there! Climbing up onto the top of a coffee table he reached up looping a finger into the string separating him from the small attic above. It was rare he ever used it, and he'd often forget he even had an attic. He pulled ducking low in surprise at the old creaky ladder tumbling down to him. That… made quite the booming sound only to give away his location.._

_"What the hell was that?"  
_

_"It came from in there!"  
_

_"Well, what're you waiting for!? Go!"_

_At that command the representative panicked. This was all happening too damn quickly. He climbed the ladder stumbling a bit at his heels, but eventually made it into the dusty old room. He grabbed the top step of the ladder, but froze when an unfamiliar face stared up at him. He snapped his arm up in hopes to fling the weak ladder up, but the man's calloused hands caught onto it and tugged releasing a rough cackle from his lungs. _

_The englishman whipped his body around and crawled through the cramped space. "Why now?" He complained a sweat drop forming at the edge of his hairline. Not only was he oblivious to what was going on- How did they know to come here for him? Why were they here? Shrugging away the various questions he focused on saving himself right now. Something wasn't right. It was getting darker and darker as he ventured further into the space. He could've sworn there was an opening out of here! _

_"Here here, you git." The voice teased as it only grew louder and louder with each pounding step._

_"S-Stay back!" England threatened his tongue stumbling with his own warning. He felt his spine come in contact with the cold, damp wooden boards enclosing him in the room._

_"Or what? You're gonna throw some scones at me?" he mocked the man further an amused smirk playing at his dry and cracked lips._

_That was when England snapped. "Are you insulting my cooking?" He demanded waving a fist to the man a furious expression across his face. Why did everyone hate scones so much? He saw nothing wrong with them. But, it seemed like everyone avoided all of his cooking. He couldn't be THAT bad, right? Ignoring those lingering thoughts the man responded._

_"I could be. Depends how you'd see it." He rasped his facial features now visible under the vague lighting weaving past the cracks in the roof work. "But, that is none of my business. I am only here to retrieve you under strict orders." he finished._

_This man was not your typical everyday middle aged man. There was a long scar stretching down to the tip of his jawline and it left a blank area in the center of his left brow. He had dull hazel brown eyes almost resembling his former pupil, Hong Kong. Though, his eyes were swarmed with pure hatred. A charcoal black hood was hung over his head shadowing and concealing any further damages upon his face to become visible. England felt a stab of guilt for this man. It was clear that this stranger's past was not a happy one. The hurt screaming in the depths of his eyes only resulting in something churning into England's stomach. This man was from Britain, and he could tell. "Now, come on. Don't make this harder than it's supposed to be." he pressed the representative on his finger tip tapping the hilt of a dagger snugged between a leather invention clinging to his belt and the waistband of his ragged jeans scrapping over the creaking floorboards they argued upon._

_"Really now? You say it as if I know what's going on." He pointed out a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips._

_"And you act like you know what's going on." The man countered earning an astonished reaction from his target._

_England felt a small scoff escape his lungs as he returned his attention upon his opponent. "Then why don't you tell me exactly what the bloody hell is going on?" He snarled in hopes of some sort of explanation._

_"That's not my place to speak. You see," he began nearing the older man. "I simply follow orders. I do not question them." He __explained in the simplest way possible. "Now, why don't you just come with me and-" With that he was cut off by an already bloodied fist meeting with his nose. He flew back groaning and huffing in frustration. "Damn you!" He spat tears at the corners of his eyes at the abrupt pain searing over his facial nerves. Ignoring the familiar sensation he returned the hit.. Only, he opened his fingers as if they were talon trapping the man by the throat against the wet wood behind him. _

_"That… was a bad idea.." He shook his head as if to say 'tsk tsk' like he was speaking to a child. Applying pressure to his iron grip he heard the target wheeze and struggle for breath.  
_

_Panicking the country inhaled and exhaled in an attempt to keep the air circulation going through his body, and to stay conscious. How dare he? Barging in here like a barbarian and spitting such threats at him. Fists clutched at his sides as his vision slowly began to blur and darken at the edges. Damn.. He was running out of time. Grasping the man's wrist he fought to pull him away. He felt weak.. vulnerable.. He could barely even stay awake anymore due to the sickness spreading around his country. How could he possibly put up a fight? His dilated pupils wandered over to the crates tucked about the stuffy room. A small gleam caught his eyes and that cocky grin returned to him. Now, he had a plan and he intended to put it in motion.. _

_Searching for the perfect time he flicked his elbow up into the man's arm allowing him to lean closer tot he supplies. Just a little more.. Extending his arm his fingers tapped at the floor struggling to grasp the very thing that could save his life… his sword from his Pirating days. The grip around his windpipe only grew tighter with each move he made closer to the weapon. _

_Finally, he got a hold of it and without any further signs of hesitation he lashed out the tip of the blade meeting with the man's clothing and ripping at the flesh just below the rotator cuff connecting the arm restraining him._

_The strange man released a howl of agony as the sticky scarlet red fluids leaked from his body. He hunched forward his opposite hand covering the wound. His disgusting yellow teeth were shown past his straining lips. Now, he had just about enough of this man… Taking his hand away from the blood pouring from the wound he grasping the uniquely carved dagger from it's pocket and whipped it out only to be greeted with the familiar sound of steel meeting with steel. _

_"You're just full of secrets, aren't you?" he mocked the man somehow still having the ability to laugh like a __maniac._

_"Shut your mouth, will you. Your breath is as bad as America's." he chuckled pushing his weapon forward against his enemies'. He brought his feet up so he was supported by his toes with his heels up and is knees close to his chest allowing him stronger balance and swifter movement. Taking the risk he brought back the steel sword and swung it back meeting once more with the powerful dagger. Throwing out his second hand he grabbed the scarred's man weak arm and threw it __aside allowing him an open area to stab the weapon against his ribcage and through the vulnerable organ, but he stopped._

_"What? Are you chickening out now?" The man laughed seeing the very tip of the sword poking at the fabric of his coat. "You were once more a mighty pirate, and you dare show mercy?" He mocked not acknowledging his own position in this situation._

_The older man's hands shook against the hilt of his sword. He couldn't take this man's life. Regret and guilt began to eat their way to his head and he felt the muscles in his arms go weak and he fell to his knees. What the hell was happening? Why? "Why?" He cried aloud his face burying away in his hands. He had seen a pitiful scene like this before. It he recalled it correctly it was during the Revolutionary War. All of these emotions smashed against him at once. Seeing another man at the end of his sword was not something he wished to repeat. The tears of frustration, agony, guilt, horror, and hatred fell slipping over his cheeks and dripping down from his jawline. "Why am I so weak?" He mumbled under his erratic breaths._

_The assassin took this chance to reach into his back pocket. He was hoping he wouldn't have to resort to this, but this was the perfect moment. Flipping out the cloth soaked in the familiar combination of chemicals he pressed it against the englishman's face covering his nose as well as his mouth. He pushed aside his trembling hands and replaced them with the chemicals. "Shh.." He cooed watching the eyelids of his target drop down weakly without another sound, and he was out…._

The blond representative felt restrained. His shoulders as well as his neck were sore. His sight was blurry and his strength slipped away like sand through another's fingers. He couldn't speak. He felt too tired. He wished to fall back into that forced slumber for a bit longer, but he couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes nothing happened. He felt isolated… trapped within the darkness that now contained him… He felt like a dog...

* * *

**Wow, this took longer than expected. Sorry about that guys! I kinda go with the flow, and sometimes that flow gets stuck because I run out of creativity. LOL.**

**Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed!~**

**Feel free to leave a review!**


End file.
